


The Face In The Papers

by Buckets_Of_Stars



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Complete, Gen, Godfather Happy, Happy Hogan is a Good Bro, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt Peter, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, I’m bad at tagging, Kid Peter Parker, Mama Bear Tony Stark, News Reporters Can Be Assholes, One-Shot, Peter Just Wanted His McDonald’s, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Stark - Freeform, Precious Peter Parker, Prompt Fill, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, and a good uncle, dad tony, is that too much to ask, son peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-30 23:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12663618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckets_Of_Stars/pseuds/Buckets_Of_Stars
Summary: All Tony wanted to do was get a Happy Meal for his son, eat some chicken nuggets and go home. However, when they are ambushed by a group of information-hungry journalists, bitter childhood memories are forced to the surface and the father will do anything to protect his child from people that have stalked him his whole life.





	The Face In The Papers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delphinium2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delphinium2/gifts).



> Hey guys!:) This is a prompt that I have been working on for the last few days, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Dedicated to delphinium2222:D She is an incredible and beautiful person and you guys should read her story because it is as amazing as her! 
> 
> Link to her story: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11825637/chapters/26686449
> 
> I love you Sophia and I hope this is what you were looking for!❤️
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.
> 
> (P.S: Peter is 7 years old in this story :D)

* * *

 

Tony has dealt with the Media his whole life.

  
Being the son of the legendary Howard Stark had its drawbacks (not counting the bruising and alcohol induced rages that encompassed most of his childhood). His mother had tried to keep the invasive reporters out of his life, but once Howard had heard about the amazing publicity Tony offered him, there was no going back.

  
Press conference after press conference was set up, and young Tony Stark was the main attraction. Like a monkey at a zoo, he was watched, preyed upon by the hungry vultures circling overhead. His father dressed him up in the finest dress clothes he could find, the Stark Logo pressed into each shirt and easily assessable to the always watching cameras.

  
Every Saturday it was the same.

  
The same shouted questions, and the same invasive touching. Hands grabbing at a freaked out and panicked 8 year old, shoving microphones into his face and scowling in annoyance when all the boy would do was back away.

  
“ _Just_ _one_ _more_ _question_!” They would say, fingers sharp as they dug into the pressed satin, claws scratching Tony’s arms, and eyes seeming to glow in the flashes of cameras. “ _Just one more picture. Just one more statement.”_

_  
Just one more, one more, one more. . ._

  
It was never just one more anything, and they were always there, always pushing for information and relentlessly searching for any speck of insecurity. He had tried to be brave, to ignore the raging frown hidden underneath his father’s charming smile every time he would refuse to answer a question, but sometimes it would be to much and his little 8 year old mouth would go on a rampage. Article after article was published, Tony’s face on magazines and blown up on Billboards across the country, the news of his graduation from M.I.T a few years down the road trashed by fake stories of his supposed cheating.

  
Nothing became sacred, all of his personal problems made public, and his whole life turned into cheep entertainment for nosy assholes. The death of his parents was the final straw, and Tony embraced the flashy lifestyle with his head held high and his heart in his throat, hiding his sorrow and nausea behind a carefully crafted mask of narcissism and self-importance.

  
He played the part, made the whole world believe that Anthony Edward Stark was nothing more than a self proclaimed genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist, and that his heart was as cold and hard as the Arc Reactor shoved into his chest. That was the image he had created for himself, not his father, and he would keep anything that was his, no matter the consequences. He would continue to be a heartless bastard in the limelight and never let anyone close.

  
At least until he adopted Peter.

 

* * *

 

The McDonald’s was _packed_.

  
Tony feels his stomach drop as Happy pulls into the parking lot, the tires going over a speed bump and crunching on the gravel. Stopping for only a second to let a mother with 3 kids cross, the black mustang is carefully parked in between a puke green van and the curb, the sunlight bouncing off the windshield as they turn. Once the car was in park did Happy turn around to face his boss, his eyes widened.

  
“Uh, Tony? Do you really think that it’s a good idea to go in th-“ The grumpy man begins to ask, but Peter’s squeaky voice cuts him off, breathless with excitement.

  
“Can we go in now, Daddy? I really want to be the first one to get the new Captain America toy!”

  
The little boy bounces in his car seat, his brown hair wild and eyes lighting up as he looks out the window at the brightly colored restaurant. One small hand reaches up toward his mouth, his thumb getting sucked with vigor as he turns back toward his father and Godfather.

  
Gently taking the young Stark’s hand in his own, Tony gently pulls the boy’s finger from his mouth as he answers, making sure to wipe the spit coated digit on his own white shirt.

  
“Of course we are going in, Pete. Uncle Happy and I just have to make sure that it’s safe first, okay?”

  
Peter nods, face adorably serious, before he goes back to looking out the window, his sketchers lighting up blue and red as he kicks them against the leather seat. Tony gives a sigh, brushing one hand through his child’s hair before turning back to his Driver.

  
“Did you already have the whole place secured, Hap?”

  
The man taps a few times on his phone, the device lighting up after a second and making a small dinging sound. Reading over the message once more, he turns toward his honorary Brother.

  
“Yep, I checked the perimeter before we left the Tower.” He says, frowning when a car backing up in front of them pulls out a little too close for comfort.

  
“Great! I’m starving and need some nuggets!” Tony says, unbuckling his seat belt and slipping on his sunglasses.

  
Reaching over, he unbuckles Peter’s car seat, the little boy practically squirming with excitement as he finally gets freed. Tony smiles at his son’s eagerness, zipping up his small red jacket so that his boy doesn’t get chilly out in the late January weather. Pressing a quick kiss to his temple, the genius sees Happy get out of the car and begin to walk over to their side, his breath fogging in the cool air as he gets closer.

  
Peter’s door is carefully opened, the dark headed man making sure no small feet or fingers are in the way before lifting his beaming nephew out of the car, his tie flapping in the wind. The little boy wraps his arms around Happy’s neck, looking around with wide doe eyes as a flock of seagulls fly around the fast food restaurant, sharp eyes searching for a dropped fry or spilled ice cream. His Godfather makes sure that Tony is completely out of the car before setting Peter down, ruffling the 7 year old’s soft hair as the boy seems to jump up and down in excitement, pointing with one small hand to the windows lining the building.

  
“Look Daddy, look! They have a slide _inside_ , a red one like your Iron suit, and lookie, a ball-pit! Can I play in the ball-pit, Dad? Please please please, I’ll be really good and not back-talk Friday when she tells me not to run, please?”

  
Tony laughs, reaching down to adjust the last minute green hat encircling his over excited child’s head, the fabric coming to rest below his baby’s ears and keeping the cold wind out. His son latches onto his hand, his squirming fingers tugging the sleeve of his jacket and his face lit up in child-like wonder.

  
He is the cutest thing Tony had ever seen.

  
“Sure thing baby, but only for a few minutes, then we have to go and get you a new lunch box since you spilled chocolate milk in your old one.”

  
Still chuckling, the Billionaire lets his squealing boy lead him to entrance of the restaurant, his small body tugging his father as hard as he can as he continues to babble about toys and play pins. In the corner of his eye, Tony can see Happy walking a few feet to their right, a faint smile on his face at his Nephew’s eagerness, and his dark eyes darting around in a watch for danger. Lifting Peter up when he stumbles on the curb, Tony feels his heart glow as bright as his Reactor when his son leans into his touch.

  
They are just a few steps from the door when they get ambushed.

  
The Reporters seem to emerge from thin air, their microphones and cameras held out, and eyes wild as they get a rare glimpse of the youngest Stark. There has to be at least 20 of them, all pushing and shoving against each other and shouting a mixture of curses and questions.

  
“Mr. Stark, what are you doing here?”

  
“Mr. Stark, can we get a picture of you and Peter?”

  
“Is it true that you are trying to raise money to buy a McDonald’s near your Tower?”

  
Tony tries his hardest to ignore them, the flashes of cameras nearly blinding him as he attempts to pull his son closer to his side, the small boy looking around with eyes widened in fear and anxiety, a complete contrast to his joyful face just a few minutes ago. In the background, the genius can hear Happy attempting to push the mass of people back, his deep voice rising above the shrill questions of the journalists.

  
A man suddenly appears almost directly in front of Tony, his grey eyes boring into the elder Stark’s as he raises his camera, the resulting light making the Billionaire flinch back on instinct, his grip on Peter loosening as he raises his hands to cover his face. That is all it takes for the pack of wolves to swarm them more fully, the bodies pressing together and creating a cage of body heat and imposing gazes. A woman pushes against the superhero, her microphone almost slapping him in the face as she screams accusations, her voice getting drowned out in the uproar.

  
That is when his grip on Peter finally breaks.

  
His son gets swallowed up in the masses, his cry of fear echoing in Tony’s ears as he gets shoved backwards, away from his baby. The last thing he sees before his child is fully out of sight is his boy’s face screwed up in pain, the Reporters grabbing his skinny arms tightly and shouting in his face.

  
“Just one question Peter, that’s all we need. Just one picture. . .” They shout, taking photos and yelling interrogations even as the young boy shakes his head, his hat slipping down his forehead from the force.

  
Suddenly, his own young face replaces his son’s, the same helplessness seeming to overpower Tony for a split second as he drowns in memories of his childhood and of all the disgusting Press Conferences he was forced to go to.

  
_Just_ _one_ _more_ , _Tony_.

  
_No_. Narrowing his eyes, the Billionaire shakes himself out of his recollection, his whole body trembling in rage. He would not let these bastards do to his child what was done to him, and he suddenly pushes the shouting man in front on him, his dark eyes seeming to glow as he snarls.

  
“Daddy!” Peter’s fearful voice suddenly floats above the shouting, and Tony feels his blood boil and his body shiver at the pain laced in the one yelp. “Daddy, h-help- _get away_ _from me!_ ”

  
Without even thinking, Tony was shoving through the Reporters with all of his strength, his eyes burning a fire he feels deep within his soul and his Arc Reactor buzzing in his chest. With one final push, he is almost on top of his child, Peter appearing to be struggling in the firm grip of a reporter as the man hassles him, tears streaming down his little face and his body shuddering with sobs.

  
“Get the fuck away from him.” The genius growls, his voice seeming to stall the crowed momentarily, and making everyone freeze.

  
Using the opportunity, the elder Stark reaches down and rips the man’s fingers from around his son’s arms, feeling his heart break at the cry of pain that is ripped from the young boy at the action. Lifting his baby into his arms, Tony curls his body around his boy, hiding his sobbing child against his chest as Peter nuzzles closer, his small fingers clutching his jacket with a vice grip. Humming low in his throat, Tony gently rocks them from side to side, kissing his son’s temples and cheeks, and making sure to glare at anyone stepping too close.

  
The man he pushed blinks, his mouth appearing to move in slow motion when he walks closer still. Tony feels his fury reach a heightened level, his hand getting surrounded by metal and his palm glowing a bright blue-white as he hold it up, holding Peter closer with the other. The cold air around them seems to snap and crackle as it boils, the fire in his blood burning the oxygen up. He grins, teeth white and glowing as he lifts his lips up in a feral snarl, moving toward the car and keeping his still crying baby in front of him the whole time.

  
“We are done here.”

  
Happy, his own face red in anger and his dark eyes narrowed, keeps watch at Tony’s back, his gun having been pulled out and loaded almost as soon as the News Reporters appeared. They make it to the car without incident, the elder Stark throwing open the door and climbing in, not caring when he slams the metal closed with way more force than necessary. Quickly strapping his sniffling son in, Tony doesn’t even wait for Happy to get into the Driver’s side before he was ordering them to move, his voice strained and pulse humming under his skin.

  
They pull out of the parking lot with a screech, the tires leaving a black streak and smelling faintly of burning rubber. Pulling his child as close to him as he can, the superhero watches as the McDonald’s gets smaller and smaller, trying to desperately get a hold of himself and not blast everything insight as they speed down the street. Peter buries his face in his Daddy’s chest, his tears wetting the fabric and the Arc Reactor soothing against his red cheek. Tony just sighs, running his fingers through his little boy’s hair as he curls his arms around him, trapping him in a cocoon of protection and safety.

  
Only after they stop at a traffic light does Happy speak, his voice uncharacteristically soft and his eyes glowing with guilt as he looks back at them in the rear view mirror.

  
“I-I’m _so_ sorry, Tony. I should have checked to see if there were any reporters around before we got out, and if you want to fire me, then I completely underst-“

  
But that’s as far as he gets, his boss cutting him off and making him snap his mouth closed, looking back at the road just as the light switches to green once more. He accelerates just as Tony replies.

  
“Nope, not of that Hap! You may be a shitty Driver, but you are _family_. This wasn’t you fault, and I don’t want to hear you blame yourself anymore. I can’t handle any more crying today.” Tony flashes his brother a reassuring smile, his face genuine even as he jokes.

  
Happy rolls his eyes, but his face is relieved, and he lets out a tiny breath, his grip on the steering wheel loosening as he leaves Tony to comfort his Godson.

  
Peter is still crying, but his eyes have started to droop in exhaustion, and Tony knows that the stress of the day was getting to him. Leaning down, the Billionaire rests his cheek against his baby’s head, Peter’s hair soft against his face and his breathing becoming even after a few seconds. The rage he felt will be back once he talks with the News Stations, but for now he continues to hug his son close.

  
Undoing his son’s seatbelt, the elder Stark cannot control the instincts screaming at him to hold his child as close as he can, to swaddle his little body in layers upon layers of protection and warmth, and to never _ever_ let something like this happen again. He tucks Peter into his lap, the boy wrapping his arms around his father’s neck without a second of hesitation, pressing his face even closer against Tony’s chest and sticking his thumb into his mouth. The genius doesn’t have the heart to take it out, instead choosing to cuddle him even closer.

  
He doesn’t even register when Happy goes through another McDonald’s drive-thru, the divider going up and encasing the two Stark in slight darkness for a few minutes as their order gets pulled in. But when his friend hold out a small, plastic covered Captain America toy, the yellow  M symbol covering the outside, Tony snaps out of his thoughts. Blinking, he takes the offered toy with a small smile, shifting his son in his arms as they start to move again.

  
The smell of greasy fries fills up the car as the bag is sat on the seat, the paper crinkling in the heat blowing from the vents. Peter doesn’t stir, however, when his Dad offers him a nugget, turning his small face away and instead choosing to hold his new toy close against his chest. He leans back even further against Tony, and the man knows that he is asleep when his eyes slip shut with a soft flutter, his long lashes tickling his cheek.

  
The elder Stark gives a sigh of relief when they pull back into the garage, the door closing behind them with little noise as they park. Patting Happy’s shoulder in thanks, he slips out of the car, making sure not to bump his child’s delicate head against the metal. Pausing only to wait until Happy has locked the car, both men walk into the elevator and start to ride up, Tony beginning to bounce Peter in his arms when the boy whines at the sudden motion.

  
He knows that this is going to completely blow up tomorrow, that his son is going to be the talk of the town and be the focus of every magazine for the next week. It makes him shiver in anger just thinking about it, and he struggles for a second to rein in the fierce emotions bubbling to the surface.

  
His saving grace is the knowledge that he would not allow anyone to violate his baby, and that he would do everything in his power to keep these people away from Peter. He would never force his son into the spotlight, never do what his own father did to him all those years ago. He would rather his reputation become absolute shit then let that happen.

  
But for right now, he needs to put Peter down for a proper nap, and change him out of his tear stained clothing. Tony holds him close, kissing his temple and feeling love bloom bright in his chest, his Arc Reactor gleaming under his shirt.

  
They are just stepping into the living room when he suddenly turns toward Happy. Settling the bag of food into the counter, his brother gives him a startled look as he speaks.

  
“How much do you think it would cost to buy a McDonald’s near here?”

  
“What the _hell_ , Tony?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos make my day and comments fuel my writing ;)
> 
> Also, shout out to DoctorsBadWolf for the awesome title! Thank you for your help Allison!:)


End file.
